Aika awakened on the floor of the backroom of the Spear and Cauldron, an unknown time later. Her ears rang, and her head swam in a drunken whirl as she pushed herself to her feet. She fell against the fire pit, catching the brick rim with both hands. She boiled inside, until she thought it might come as a relief to claw away her own skin. Heat blossomed inside her, searing white and pushing at her insides until she was filled with it.
The sudden flare of a blast furnace singed her eyebrows and eyelashes and she staggered back, falling once more.
She looked up. The fire from the pit had surged to ceiling height, making her eyes tear. The ringing in her ears began to fade, but she also realized the white fire in her had been banked until it encompassed some hidden core she hadn’t realized had been a part of her. And now she felt…complete. And strangely bereft as a result.
No going back now.
The fire whooshed out with the faint tink of calcified brick. Aika stood on wobbly legs, taking a moment to steady herself.
There, across the pit’s iron grate, lay the sword. Her sword, apparently.
She reached out to give the hilt a tentative, experimental touch. When no further bursts of energy ensued, she once again wrapped her hand around the grip, lifting the shining blade to her face. At a loss as to where to put it, she settled on the belt strap at her hip where she usually put her torch.
As the blade slid home screams reached her. They echoed eerily, as though she were feeling them rather than hearing them. Her feet moved of their own volition, instincts warring with training.
Through the corridors, feet pelting the dusty ground with her left hand steadying the dangerous bounce of the blade at her side. The locked door awaited her at the end of the maze, and she pushed through in a breathless, sluggish moment without thinking, exploded into a sprint at the other side, through the empty vaults, up the stairs two at a time.
Carrion demons everywhere, taking people out, ripping them to shreds for the pure, heated joy of it. Arterial blood sprayed everywhere as if from a child’s lawn fountain. Again without thinking, Aika reached across her chest and pulled her sword free. Its otherness fairly sang in her hand.
She didn’t know how she knew what to do. But the movements came to her as though she’d been trained all her life, as easy as her military training came to the fore when she was on patrol. The sword weighed heavy in her hand, but moved whip-quick. The grip of hand-and-a-half length, she could move through the forms and alternate her hold as often and as smoothly as she needed.
Limbs flew, blood spurted, heads quite literally rolled. She danced among the shrieking carrion, adrenaline and light pulsing through her with incandescent fury.
She heard her name, and she paused to catch her breath. Sound and sensation flooded her in a rush.
Aika found herself alone in a small clearing of bodies, most of them demons. When she turned, a squadron of Dreamtech security were prodding forward two figures—the old man, and Bobby. When they reached the clearing, they were thrown forward onto the ground.
Charles strolled forward, checking his hand comp with apparent unconcern. He smiled at her and put it away. “Ah. So I see you’ve harnessed your…full potential.”
Aika charged. A bare moment later her hand was clenched around his neck and his feet had left the ground. “I don’t think so,” she said. “For instance, I’m not sure whether I can break your neck. Shall we find out together?”
“Let him go, Aika,” the old man said from his kneeling position.
“Why?” she snarled, not looking away from her former handler. “He killed Jamie, just to get me here. He wanted this. Let him reap the consequences.”
“No,” he said wearily. “London needs the biosphere. At least for now.”
She stared at him, not releasing Charles. If anything, her grip tightened. “What?”
“They need the biosphere,” he repeated, eyes glowing the luminescent blue of hottest fire. “They need time to heal, to rebuild. There will be a reckoning, girl. But not today. We need him alive.”
He’d said the one thing she could understand. She knew that need to breathe, to rest. She’d lived it, ever since Jamie died and she became someone—something—she didn’t know.
Aika turned her attention back to her handler. He had the guts to grin at her. “You are…” he rasped, “a…god.”
“No. I’m worse. Because I care.” She threw him across the clearing, much as she’d pummeled a sand bag across a gymnasium floor. Then she leveled her gore-dipped sword at the squadron. “Let them go.”
One of the men tried to catch the eye of his bruised and assaulted superior. She tucked the tip of her blade beneath his chin. “Now.”
The old man got creakily to his feet, with Bobby’s assistance. Aika did some quick mental math. “How do we make this place safe, Padre? Truly safe?”
Bobby’s blue-gray eyes silvered with comprehension. “It will never be the same again.”
Aika’s smile was feral. “Good.”
The old man swore and knocked her to the ground. “Cover your eyes, girl!”
It was the shattering, twisting train all over again. The old man’s burly form sheltered her as the ground shook and her world turned upside down. Bright, searing light turned the inside of her eyelids pink. For nearly a full minute white gold light filled her immediate world. She could hear it. Feel it, sizzling the hair on her arms.
Eventually the light faded to sunset pinks and purples. She looked up just as it bled to inky indigo, and finally midnight with piercing sweet diamond stars. Bobby helped the old man up again, who was cursing. The moonlit shadows behind the angel were strange, moving with a soft, feathery cadence that made her blink.
Aika brushed herself off and looked around. The area around the bridge looked as though another bomb had gone off, leaving in its wake a blackened, cracked ground and smoking stone. The piles of demon and human corpse were all gone, as were the Dreamtech squadron and Charles.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“We have a much-needed drink. Or three,” the old man growled. “And you see to your sword. Then there’s dinner to be starting.”
EPILOGUE